«The Neva-river knows many Last Supper eyes. / Yesterday here the blood of saviors housled / With the body of north, paving-stone. / Here’s caroled the love of pages ablaze. / It’s with ash of the love that the evening’s so black / Both of workmen and pale librarians. / Stream is fl...»
«Lice stupidly prayed godding me, / Every morning they crawled through my clothes, / Every morning I killed them, — / Listen to their cracks, — / But they came again like quietly confident surf. The white godlike marrow of mine / I gave, Russia, you: / Be Khlebnikov, be my mind. / ...»
«Russia gave freedom to many thousands. / A pretty affair! It will be remembered for long. / And I just took off my shirt / And mirror sky-scrapers of every hair, / Every chink / Of body-city / Hung out carpets and red bunting cloths. / All citizens, male and female, / Of Me, Me — a...»
«The sea-coast. / Sky. Stars. I’m quiet. I’m lying down. / My pillow’s neither a stone, nor feathers: / A sailor’s worn-throught boot. / Samorodov wore it in those red days / When he led the revolt / And moved ship of the white to Krasnovodsk, / To the red waters. / Getting da...»